A Beautiful Thing Called the Sea
by teaandtophats
Summary: A detailed based drabble about how it feels like to be a pirate out at sea. Small mentions of adult themes (Sex, death) but nothing big. Short and sweet, but written because I felt like it. No pairings, just Pirate!England.


A/N: This is nothing but details. No dialog, no specific characters, and no plot. I was randomly inspired by my 2 favorite things; Pirates, and details in stories, to write this. :3 Please enjoy~

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**The sea is a beautiful thing.**

Blue waters as far as the eye can see. The smell of the sea-salt constantly on the mind. The only things you can hear are the gentle rock of the ship beneath your feet, the gentle rolling of the waves, and the crew on deck doing their work. During the day, you can see nothing but rolling white clouds and bright blue skies. Unless a storm was brewing then the sky was dark and grey, threatening the ship to travel. At night, gazing up, you can see nothing but clear black sky, the heavens revealing their bright stars. You can smell the crisp, night air, as either the shiver of cold during winter, or the heat of summer sun up and down your spine.

Arthur stared out into this beautiful wonder called the sea. He loved the sea. He loved sailing. He loved the rock of the ship, he loved the smell of the sea-salt, and he loved the stars in the clear black sky at night. The blue sky during the day. The flag fluttering in air upon the mast. The feel of the wood of the railing and of the wheel under your fingertips.

As well as when battle came, the firing of the cannons, the clinking and grinding of swords, and the firing of flintlocks. The yelling and commotion all around you as the two sides fought. The look upon the desperate sailors face, begging for life as Arthur pointed his sharp sword at said sailor's neck. The dullness in the sailor's eyes that showed that he knew his life would be ended and he could do nothing to save it. The fiery glare that Arthur sent back to confirm the sailors thoughts.

The power, oh the power he so deeply felt. He felt power over his crew, power over who lives and who dies on his ship and any other ship he takes control of. Power over where the ship goes, where the ship ports. But it's not just any ship, it's _his_ ship.

It's his ship, for he was captain. Captain Arthur Kirkland and nobody ever forgets that, he makes sure of it. If they did forget, he would remind them. A good reminder is a friend he liked to call 'cat o' nine tails'(*1). Tied to the mast and whipped, the amount of times whipped depended on the level of disobedience.

Almost nothing could compare to standing beside the wheel, his navigator doing the work for him. In a way, Captain Kirkland supposed he was like a king on his ship. He held control over anything without ever doing any real work. He simply ordered other people to do the manual labor. But nothing was more satisfying than standing beside that wheel and looking over his crew. Watching them scramble around fulfilling the captain's orders. If they refused to obey orders, they'd either be whipped into obedience or keelhauled(*2).

Captain Kirkland was a man of not much patience. It was either you obey, or you don't get a chance to change your mind. If someone looked useful, either useful for manual labor or useful for navigating, cooking, keeping track of supplies, you were out.

When the ship and crew found land again, they were eager for human interaction. When you're out at sea, you're isolated. No one else out there but whoever is on the ship. Years could go by, new technology could be invented without you even realizing it.

So when the captain and crew find land again, all are eager to communicate and re-discover the world. Not to mention, while out at sea you tend to get bit…. Desperate. So the crew often flock to pubs and brothels to fulfill needs. It never really mattered who you decided to bed with either. Arthur usually went with some slag in a brothel or pub. In the end they were just some person he used in order to satisfy himself. The look in the lover's eyes is sometimes of love and devotion, even though they are merely strangers.

Sometimes the lover's eyes reflect the gaze of the Captain, emotionless, sometimes full of lust and pure desire. While out at sea, if you have no choice but to either to wait for port or to deal with what you have. Arthur himself prefers to wait.

Captain Kirkland goes off in search of supplies. Fresh food, rum, new weapons, repairing the ship. Sometimes they would stay on land for quite some time. Days to weeks, months to years. It depends on their desire to stay on shore, rooted to one location. Or if they wanted to go out and see new places time after time. Sometimes it just depended on how bad the government wanted them behind bars.

Once they gathered new supplies and more crew members, they were off again. Off to confront other ships, sometimes military, sometimes merchant.

And after a long day, he would go to his quarters, separate from the crew. A nice spacious room with a bed covered in fine silk blankets. A desk off to the side full of maps and documents. A chest full of riches the military and merchant ships would carry back to land. Another chest full of extra guns and swords. Perhaps a bookshelf full of books and documents, novels and fairy tales.

At the start of the next day, when Arthur would come out of his quarters and look over his crew. Seeing his crew members emerge from slumber, groggy and not yet fully awake. His navigator shaking off the tired feeling that threatened to fill his eyes. The captain himself was still a bit tired, but he needed to seem alert for his crew.

Yes, he thought. This is his place in the world. Standing on the upper-deck, watching over his loyal crew members. Ruling over every other ship that dares tangle with the Queen's Emerald. Gazing out over those icy blue waters, day after day. This was where he belonged in the world, forever looking out at the beautiful wonder they called the sea.

THE END.

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*1 Cat O' Nine Tails- A whip of many tails used for physical punishment. Used in the Royal Navy and Army of the United Kingdom.

*2 Keelhauled- A form of punishment, a sailor would be tied to a rope that looped beneath the ship, and dragged along the bottom of the ship. Usually scraped and scratched at by barnacles and such.

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